A Chance Encounter
by WritingBookworm
Summary: Hanekoma, meet Joshua.


A Chance Encounter

Sanae Hanekoma knew that he should probably be working.

However, since no one had come in to order anything in the past hour and it was such a nice day outside. . . well, he couldn't help himself, now could he? And he was right beside his shop, so he'd know if anyone did come in.

Hanekoma scratched the back of his neck, digesting his surroundings. The heads of Shibuya citizens bobbed up and down, as if part of a huge wave. He heard the rumblings of a car passing by somewhere. Whatever grass there was amidst the sea of pavement radiated a ripe green. Hanging over it all was a sky void of clouds.

The best part about it? No game was being held this week, so he could relax, even if for a little.

"-then prove it! Prove that they exist!"

His eyes flickered toward the voice. It belonged to a carrot-haired boy, perhaps eight or nine, looking smug. He was towering over a small boy, who looked to be five at the very most. The five year old was staring at the ground.

Finally the five year old mumbled something Hanekoma couldn't hear. But Carrot Head was being quite clear.

"Ha! So your friends don't exist, do they?" The second boy was silent. Carrot Head barked a laugh. "So that means you're stupid? Ya hear me? You're stupid!"

He didn't know why, but seeing Carrot Head bully the younger kid sent a flare of anger rising up to his neck. Bullying was something he didn't approve of. He found himself marching past a few shops and to the boys.

"I think that's quite enough," he barked. He stared Carrot Head straight in the eye, which made him drop his rude demeanor and acquire a

shocked, almost fearful one.

"I'm fairly sure you know that calling someone stupid isn't nice," he continued. "Now apologize to this kid and be off before I call your mom."

Carrot Head regained some of his earlier attitude. "Oh yeah?" he sneered. "Who's gonna make me? And I bet you don't even know who my mom is!"

A corner of Hanekoma's lip curled, and his pupils glinted. "I have fairly interesting connections. Because I've met a log of people, I can probably deduce who your mother is. Let's see. . ." he took a closer look at the boy, "red hair, overlarge ears, round face. . . I'm guessing your mother is Naomi Takashi. So that makes you Haru Takashi. Am I right?"

Haru's lip plummeted to the ground. He then mumbled an apology and walked off.

"Well, that takes care of him." He wiped his hands off as if just having done a particularly dirty job. He then turned to the five year old. "Hey kid, you all right?"

The kid didn't answer, so he took his silence as a chance to take him in. He was very small, almost scrawny, and a baggy purple shirt made him look even thinner than he already was. Ashy blonde hair topped a pointed face. Strange violet irises were sunken, as if he had seen things he never should have.

Hanekoma cocked his head, intrigued by the boy's appearance. He repeated the question, and the boy continued to do nothing but hang his head down.

"Know what?" he finally said, "you look like you need some cheering up. Come over to my place and I'll fix something up. Sound good?"

The boy squirmed, keeping his eyes downcast. "Mommy said I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

The café owner laughed and remarked, "Smart mom. Tell you what- my name's Sanae Hanekoma. I'm not exactly a stranger anymore, am I?"

The kid didn't say anything. Hanekoma decided to take that as a yes.

"Now come with me. Shop's just over there."

He turned around and began walking to his shop. He was halfway there when he looked over his shoulder; the kid was following him. He allowed himself a smile.

Once they got to WildKat, he held the door open for the boy. WildKat was a nice place, with orange walls, a tiled floor, a few tables and some stools lined up at a counter. Behind the counter was a few coffee machines and other various cooking instruments.

In no time at all, Hanekoma had made a simple hot chocolate for him. He handed it to the kid, who took the mug gingerly. He observed it closely, as if inspecting it for poison, then took a small sip.

"It's hot," he admitted after a while.

"Well, that's why they call it hot chocolate." He rested both of his forearms on the black countertop and leaned forward. "You know, I never learned your name."

The boy took another sip, then answered, "I'm Yoshiya, but my parents call my Joshua."

"So Joshua, then. Tell me; that other kid earlier. Does he usually bully you?"

Joshua set the mug down and shifted in his seat. The motion triggered a small squeak from the stool. "I. . . there are people I can see that no one else can. Even my parents just say that they're imaginary friends, _but they're not_. " His voice cracked slightly. "My imaginary friends don't have red numbers on their hands, or have freaky black wings, and they wouldn't be attacked by weird creatures."

Numbers on their hands . . . black wings . . . weird creatures. . .

This kid wasn't crazy, Hanekoma realized. He was seeing the Reaper's Game.

_He could see the dead._

The epiphany came so quickly to him that he almost reeled over. Despite his effort to keep his shock contained, his eyelids backed up into his skull, and his lip dropped slightly.

So that was why . . . this explained a lot; why he was bullied, his nervousness, the dead look in his eyes. To have witnessed so many of these horrible things at such a young age . . . Hanekoma didn't even finish the thought.

Joshua played with his fingers, keeping his gaze even with the ground. "And now you think I'm crazy, too." His tone rang of sheer hopelessness.

Hanekoma's hand planted itself on his shoulder. At this, the five year old jumped as if someone had said "Boo!" and stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Then he registered the man's face. It was darkened, almost gaunt, as if he'd suddenly aged ten years.

He was dead serious.

Joshua's widened eyes relaxed before he knitted his eyebrows. He had gotten many different kinds of reactions when he explained his predicament. Some had stared at him as if he'd begun speaking a different language; some had dressed their face with a false smile and told him that everything would be all right. Mostly, his secret was met with mocking laughter and pointing fingers.

But never before had he gotten a response like this, a grim face and silence to match. This guy didn't seem fazed in the least.

Hanekoma looked at him straight in the eye and said, "I believe you."

Joshua opened his mouth to say something, but he was too stunned to say anything. Hence, it clicked shut once more.

This allowed him to continue. "Trust me, I know exactly what you're talking about. You aren't hallucinating or anything. It's just that you have a special gift- not very many people can see what you can."

"And. . . you can see them as well?"

Hanekoma nodded. He let out a large exhale, removed his hand off of the kid's shoulder and then licked his lips. A smile began playing on his face once more. "Tell you what- come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you more about what exactly you're seeing. Does that sound good?"

Apparently it did, for the first time; a bright shine replaced the hollow look in his eyes. Joshua nodded eagerly.

That was the start of what would come to be a long and successful partnership.

* * *

**A/N: Ah man, I've been wanting to write something in the World Ends With You fandom for quite a while now. Especially for Joshua- if not in the way I expected. Had to admit though, trying to figure out how he would act like as a kid and everything- that was kind of fun. It really let me have free reign over something. **

**So there you have it. Review, or face erasure. **


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